We've All Got Sorrows to Drown
by MaxximumRide666
Summary: One-a-Day Oneshots: Paris Gellar/Luke Danes/Bartender AU. After a long day at the diner all Luke wants is to have a beer and forget. He doesn't count on the new bartender being someone he knows, let alone someone who understands his pain.


**Author Note: Day three of my One-a-Day oneshots =) this one is thanks to my better half, my gorgeous fiancée, annabre94, she picked the numbers for me and this is what came of them.**

**I'm really rather enjoying writing these and quite look forward to them every day! So hopefully I can keep going with these for a while and maybe they'll get me back into the groove of things so I can get on with my novel or even my other fanfiction stories =)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except the multitude of vimto cans and pizza boxes that litter my floor XD**

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We've All Got Sorrows to Drown

Luke dropped himself onto the bar stool with a sigh. It had been a long day and if there was one thing that always helped him unwind it was a cold beer. He looked along the bar for the bartender and spotted her at the far end, her back to him as she served someone else. He didn't recognise her, with her long blonde hair and stiff, business-like posture. _She must be new_, he thought, and contented himself to wait.

The bar was unusually quiet for a Friday night. Even for this part of Hartford, the part all the rich folks pretended didn't exist. Luke turned on his stool to look around the bar. The lighting was low, affording the patrons a small amount of anonymity as they sat slouched at their tables, glasses of whiskey and vodka and beer clutched in their hands.

He recognised a few of the regulars: old Peter McKay who used to run the bar a few blocks over before he was bought out by a much bigger chain, James Tobias who, it's said, used to ride in a biker gang back in the day, Ali Greta and her withered, mostly-deaf husband whom she kept constantly supplied with rum, and then there was Andrew Paul, the owner and most loyal patron of the bar. He sat slumped a few stools down from Luke, his cheek resting on a coaster, a half empty glass of brandy in his hand.

Luke breathed in deeply, allowing his eyes to slide shut for just a moment as the familiarity of the place washed over him. He had been coming here for as long as he could remember. First with his dad, then after he died Luke had come with his sister, and then on his own after Liz had decided she couldn't take small town life anymore and bailed on him.

He shook the memory from his head and opened his eyes. It didn't do to dwell on things he couldn't change. _Not that it ever stops you;_ he pushed the sleeves of his shirt further up his arms and turned back to the bar.

The bartender stood in front of him now, waiting expectantly. "What can I get you?"

Luke took in the girl in front of him and froze. "Paris?"

"Luke?"

"What-what are you doing here?" He looked the girl up and down, taking in the green apron tied around her waist, the smart black trousers and the crisp white shirt she wore.

"I'm running for Senator, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"But... are you even old enough to work in a bar?" Luke looked about them as if someone might be listening who could get the girl in trouble.

Paris stared at him evenly for a moment. "I'm 23, Luke. I have been for a while, so yes, it's perfectly legal for me to work in a bar. Now are you going to order something or not? I have better things to be doing than standing here exchanging petty small talk with you."

Luke blanched. Then a smile slipped onto his face. "Still a charmer, I see, Paris."

She sighed. "Do you want a drink or not?"

He found himself chuckling at her annoyance. "I'll have a beer, since you asked so nicely."

The girl turned to the refrigerated section behind her and slid it open. "Any particular kind?" she gestured to the array of beer bottles that lined the shelves.

"Any'll do."

She grit her teeth and snatched a random bottle. The crack and hiss as Paris opened it for him made Luke smile.

"Thank you."

"That's three dollars and fifty cents... please." She stood in front of him, her hand out, waiting impatiently as he fished a couple of one dollar bills from his wallet.

He finished the bottle in three mouthfuls and motioned for another. He handed her the money for it as she drummed her fingers on the bar.

"You know, you should really think about working on your people skills. You come off a little..." he took a swig from his second beer as he tried to find the right word. "...Terrifying."

"I work in a bar, surrounded by drunks; do you really think they care how I come off? As long as they get their alcohol they couldn't give a damn." She stuffed the money in the till and slammed Luke's change down in front of him.

The two acquaintances locked eyes; Luke searchingly, Paris daring him to answer. Suddenly they weren't Luke Danes, diner owner, or Paris Gellar, Yale Graduate. They were just two people who happened to have met in a bar. Suddenly, they were equals.

"Why are you working here, Paris?" Luke spoke softly; as if he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know the answer.

The girl rolled her eyes and grabbed a cloth from under the bar. "Why does anyone work in a bar? Because I need money. Life isn't all we're led to believe it will be after college." She wiped the bar down around the man but instead of continuing along to the rest of the bar, she paused and looked at him. "Why are _you_ here?"

Luke glanced down at his beer and tapped it with his fingers before taking another drink.

"Running a diner can't be that stressful, even in a circus freak show of a town like Stars Hollow."

Luke's mouth twitched into a half smile. It vanished a second later as the answer to Paris's question clambered to the forefront of his mind and parked itself there. "Lorelai." His eyes stayed fixed on his beer bottle as he spoke.

"Ah." The sound slipped from Paris's lips almost involuntary. It wasn't just the sound of understanding. It was more than that. It was the sound someone made when they realised they weren't alone in their pain.

Luke finished the rest of his beer in one long pull. When he placed the bottle back on the bar he found another one already waiting for him. He looked across at the girl. She smiled.

"This one's on me." She cracked a bottle open for herself and clinked it against his. "You're not the only one trying to get over a Gilmore girl."

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**AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! More will be on the way tomorrow =)**

**Peace Out.**


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